| I’m so poured up tonight
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| It’s just me and this highway
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| I’m just driving
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| Don’t know where I’m going tonight
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| If you see my eyes then, you will say I’m wildin'
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| Cause I’m on a lowrider in this four door
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| Got a cup full of liquor and my eyes so low
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| I don’t know where I am going tonight
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| Baby I am just riding, riding, riding
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| Uh, feel like I’m drownin in this 40 ounce
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| Less than forty dollars to my name. |
| boy, whatchu know about
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| Ratchets and ski masks, thugs with drug habits
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| Babies born hooked on this dope, guess we cultivate drug addicts
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| In the place I reside, really ain’t shit to do but get high
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| All the way from the crack house to the church
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| Everybody doing dirt to get by
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| I just do mine, all by my lonely dawg
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| I just fell off when I’m back on it it’s fuck all y’all
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| And all the broads, just to diss a nigga
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| You too broke to buy gifts for Christmas nigga?
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| Thought she was down but she dippin' off with a different nigga
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| That hurt my heart so bad made me wanna load my clip
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| Find where this buster stay and go smoke him over my bitch
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| I’m choking smoking this zip, shoulda been selling that
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| Smoking three fives every hour yea them Kevin Durants
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| Straight to the head with this yac
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| Straight with the pot with the powder
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| Hoping I catch a blessing
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| Might catch a stray from a coward
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| Uh, we cutting corners in caprices
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| Just throw some on the stove and watch me beat that shit to pieces
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| Take this shit back to them beeper-days
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| Back when shit was cheaper-days
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| Homeboy just got raided just can’t stay clear of them people man
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| Money on my nigga books, and Sunday visits
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| Heard these mother fuckers talk about it, my niggas live it
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| But sometimes they get released and forgot who kept it the realest
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| They known behind them singles but nothing niggas and bitches
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| And I guess we out here beefin, I just caused a shoot-out at the club
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| The hardest ones to kill is niggas that you used to love
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| It’s easy squeezing that trigger but I’m dying inside
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| I Brush it off like it’s nothing and get high in the ride
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| Rolling this 4-door, yellow dope off in my Styrofoam
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| Slaying cluckers, mayonnaise and mustard what I’m ridin on
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| Rollin this 4-door with this fo-fo like I’m Al Capone
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| I’m living proof, the devils roof is what I’m ridin on |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Breaking Bad , by - Freddie Gibbs. Song from the album Baby Face Killa, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп